


Deus ex machina

by ToxicPineapple



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Hope's Peak Academy AU, It's more Kaito is sad and Rantaro's presence kinda makes him feel better, Kaito is dense as hell bro, Light Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not a lot of "comforting" as you'd define it, Pining, Sickfic, This one is angstier hehe, i mean not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22877212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: Who to call, though? Shuichi and Maki and Ryoma are out of the question-- nope, no way, they’ve got plenty to deal with on their own. What kind of hero relies on his sidekicks for help out of his own messes? Stupid thing to even consider. Kaede might be okay, except that she’s on tour right now, and therefore busy. Kirumi is remarkable and non-judgemental (and would even keep it a secret if he asked) but she’s got that whole prime minister gig, so she’s probably… busy. Kaito wouldn’t want to bother her.Who else? Uh…---Kaito gets sick while his grandparents are out of town. If his thoughts weren't so muddled, the answer to his question would be pretty damn obvious right from the get-go.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Momota Kaito
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85





	Deus ex machina

Kaito’s grandparents don’t get a lot of one-on-one time.

Well, okay, they absolutely do. Most of the year Kaito is at Hope’s Peak Academy, which is a boarding school, and other times he’s doing astronaut training, which is time consuming as hell. They get plenty of one-on-one time. Kaito just isn’t thinking about it whenever it happens because usually when he’s busy he’s more concerned with like, what he’s actually doing, rather than what his grandparents do when they’re alone. (Totally not a topic he even wants to get close to getting into, though. Ew. What the hell.)

What he means is, they don’t get a lot of time to just like, kick back and enjoy each other’s company outside of the house. They’re both retired by now but they don’t go out a lot. Usually they just stay inside. They go out, obviously, but they don’t go  _ out  _ out. Old people, man. Do you just lose your sense of fun when you get older? Kaito is only seventeen but he desperately hopes he never becomes like that. Some kind of glorified hermit. Having lived a happy life alongside your significant other is no excuse. Go do some shit while your legs still work. That’s the way to live life! His grandparents seem perfectly happy without that stuff, though, which is all good and well. They do spring for a vacation once in a while, though.

Like now, they’re headed off to some tropical island east of Japan. They told him the actual name, too, it’s just that Kaito wasn’t really paying attention. They invited him to come, even, but like… really? Date crashing? Kaito’s been told before that he’s dense but he really  _ isn’t. _ So what if his grandparents are old? They need their privacy. And they won’t enjoy their vacation properly with their grandson hanging around. So he waves them off and they go and it’s perfectly fine and dandy. Kaito gets the house to himself, even, which-- score, dude. He’s not gonna throw any huge parties or anything. That sounds pretty terrible. But it’s ample time to belt Disney songs and catch up on some abandoned knitting projects.

After his grandparents have left, he shoots a message into the group text he has with Shuichi and Maki.

_ [Hey sidekicks, I have the house to myself] _

_ [You guys know what that means] _

Maki responds first.

_ [You continue getting up early every day, even on weekends, and making yourself breakfast and doing self-care things like the old man you are.] _

Kaito snorts indignantly.

_ [HEY! I’ll have you know I plan on drinking lots of ALCOHOL] _

After a while, Shuichi sends in a message too.

_ [aklsdjkajds maybe not the best idea with your alcohol tolerance kaito] _

_ [Why are you guys bullying me? You’re my SIDEKICKS] _

_ [That’s the reason, right there.] _

_ [You unironically call us your sidekicks.] _

_ [maki can you stop putting periods at the end of every message it raises my blood pressure] _

_ [No.] _

_ [;^;] _

Anyway, Maki has a point, but Kaito figures he’ll spend his time doing  _ something  _ fun. It’s summer vacation, after all. Last year he spent the whole summer hanging out with Shuichi and Maki, and like, they’re fantastic, but maybe he’ll invite Ryoma over sometime. Not that they hang out a lot, but hey. Might as well get some time in with the guy. Ryoma’s got a killer sense of humour when he wants to, like this sort of dry, deadpan delivery that catches Kaito off guard every time and sends him over the hills. He’s also just a great dude, though. And his self esteem has been improving, which is fantastic.

The day after his grandparents have left, Kaito wakes up as early as he always does, but when he slips out of bed, he’s hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. His head is pounding, like, a  _ lot,  _ and it’s hard to keep himself upright, frankly. It would be really nice to just fall back under the covers right now. Kaito finds some semblance of rationality after a moment though and decides that he’s probably just dehydrated. Dizzy spells happen. Did he drink a lot of water before bed last night? He can’t remember, which means the answer is probably a no.

Kaito manages to stumble downstairs into the kitchen and fill himself a glass of ice cold water. For some reason his fingers feel stiff and difficult to fold. Keeping a grip on the cup is difficult already with the condensation, but it feels even more slippery than usual. And Kaito is pretty sure that he’s going to fall over. He steadies himself on the counter and tries to breath evenly as he sips water. Maybe he should go back to sleep? It’s not even light out outside. Kaito likes running around the neighbourhood before the sun is up, though, because when he finishes his routine he can sit at a bench at that small park near his house and watch the sun rise and turn the world pretty colours. It’s nice to see the neighbourhood wake up. And lots of dogs come by that way too.

For some reason, Kaito doesn’t really have the stomach to finish his water. He puts it back down on the counter half full and pushes himself back up onto his own two feet. Getting up the stairs takes a lot more effort than he’s used to. Kaito has to stop on the seventh (or eighth?) step and rest against the railing, closing his eyes. Man, what’s wrong with him right now? His head feels like someone got a hatchet inside of his skull and is trying to hack it open.

Somehow he manages, painstaking step after painstaking step, to drag himself back to bed, and collapse into the mattress. He realises as he presses his face into his still-warm pillow that he’s… really cold, actually. Shivery. Kaito’s arms feel weak and shaky but he manages to pull the blankets back over himself before he dozes off again.

A dim light is streaming through his blinds when Kaito opens his eyes for the second time, and as soon as they’re fully open he closes them again, groaning. The sound is muffled against his pillow.

Uhhhh,  _ shit.  _ His head feels like literal crap. It’s been so long since he’s had the flu. Kaito pushes himself up from his pillow, and his biceps literally shake with the exertion. The blankets are so  _ fucking  _ hot it’s absolutely insane. He kind of feels like he’s baking underneath them. His lower back is slick with sweat and his hair must be plastered to his forehead. Gross. A cold shower doesn’t sound all that bad right now.

Kaito swings his legs over the side of the bed, out from the blankets, but he has to take a minute to slow down when his head starts spinning again. Has it  _ ever  _ been this intense before? Probably, he just doesn’t remember it most likely because he’s too fuckin’ disoriented. He braces himself on the nightstand and abruptly gets to his feet, the blankets slipping from his shoulders, but as soon as he’s up, the world blurs and spins around him and he collapses backwards into the mattress. It’s cold in here, what the hell? What temperature is the room even at?

Shivering, Kaito tucks himself back under the blankets for a minute. It’s too hot under there, though. Can’t he find some kind of happy middle? He reaches up and pushes his hair away from his forehead. His arm slumps down against the pillow. Damn, he feels like literal horse shit. His heart is pounding, like, audibly. Gross.

After some indeterminate period, during which time Kaito either falls asleep again or slips in and out of consciousness at random, he gathers his thoughts enough to conclude that he’s absolutely sick. Does he have the flu? He doesn’t feel like he’s going to throw up, so probably not the stomach flu. Where the hell is his thermometer? Does he even have one? He should, right? At least it’s not the cold. Coughing sucks. Activates asthma attacks. Ugh. Kaito hates those. Like, it hurts and that fucking sucks-- the worst feeling in the  _ world  _ is not being able to breath-- but genuinely what he hates more than anything else is the worry in other people’s eyes when he goes scrambling for his inhaler. Shit.

So what? Should he just lie here all day until he feels better? Kaito screws his eyes shut and tries to consider it. Uh… uh… maybe he should finish that water from earlier, that’d probably help him gather his thoughts.

Upon managing to bully himself into getting up, Kaito shoves the blankets away and hoists himself off the mattress, relying heavily on his nightstand. As soon as he gets out of reach of the thing, though, his legs give out under him and he crumbles to the floor-- or at least he would, if not for his excellent reflexes, which enable him to catch himself on the wall. Hell yeah. Point for the Luminary of the Stars. He’s gotta have at least five of those by now, to life’s five thousand.

Ugh. This sucks. Kaito sinks down to the floor. He’s gonna have to call somebody. That’s the worst. Kaito rakes his hands down his face. He hates calling people for help. One time he had a stupid breakdown and called Shuichi and then Shuichi picked up and he hung up as soon as he heard the word  _ hello.  _ Reaching out to people is fucking-- unmanly, that’s all. Not from other people, though, really, Kaito doesn’t care about that, it’s more just awful when it comes from him. His problems aren’t even that bad and he should be able to deal with them on his own! That’s the way he prefers it for sure. Unfortunately if he can’t even get out of his fucking bedroom then he needs some help.

Who to call, though? Shuichi and Maki and Ryoma are out of the question-- nope, no way, they’ve got plenty to deal with on their own. What kind of hero relies on his sidekicks for help out of his own messes? Stupid thing to even consider. Kaede might be okay, except that she’s on tour right now, and therefore busy. Kirumi is remarkable and non-judgemental (and would even keep it a secret if he asked) but she’s got that whole prime minister gig, so she’s probably… busy. Kaito wouldn’t want to bother her.

Who else? Uh… Kokichi is a no-go, even if his lock-picking skills would make it easier on Kaito as far as  _ answering the door  _ goes, Kokichi is also an insufferable bastard. Tenko might be fine, since all she’d do is call him a degenerate male and then help him out before walking back out the door, but they’re not that close and anyway Kaito doesn’t have her number. Totally valid. Tenko doesn’t like him anyway so it’d be imposing for sure. He goes ahead and passes over the people he doesn’t think about or talk to on the reg… and he can’t do Gonta because Gonta’s just… he kinda gives a lot of himself to other people, huh? Plus he’s got all these family expectations going on, and…

Kaito nearly passes out where he is. It’s getting harder to string together coherent or even reasonable thoughts. It seems like everyone he thinks of is an impossibility. He’s gotta pick someone, though. Or maybe he can just tough his way through it? Suffer and feel better in the end? Might be a manly struggle. Make him stronger in the long run, even if it hurts for now.

(A spike of pain through his temple quiets this notion. Nope. Kaito feels like shit and wants this to be over as soon as possible. He can’t just lie here and let it continue.)

Somehow Kaito manages to get his phone off the nightstand. Who the hell should he call? He scrolls unseeingly through his contacts, scowling down at all the blurry names and profile pictures of people who he can’t rely on. Nah. Nah. Nah. Oh-- wait, actually, back up a little.

Rantaro’s in his phone as “green bro” (because Kaito has a lot of people in his phone as “bro” already and he’s gotta differentiate somehow) which is why he didn’t think of it at first, but… Rantaro’d be good, right? They have that bro code thing, so Rantaro wouldn’t be weird about it… not that Rantaro would be weird about it in the first place, he’s generally pretty reliable… plus, Kaito took care of him that one time in first year, a thousand years ago, so, maybe he’d feel inclined to… but what if Rantaro’s out of town? Wouldn’t that be kinda sucky?

For the life of him, Kaito can’t remember whether or not Rantaro is on a trip right now. This is so stupid. Kaito hates not being able to think. He presses the call icon on impulse and slams the phone painfully against his ear.

It rings once, and then Rantaro’s voice sounds on the other end.

_ “Hey Momota, what’s up?”  _ he seems to be smiling, which, well, fuck. Maybe he’s having a good day? Maybe Kaito shouldn’t even have called in the first place? This was a bad idea. Kaito should hang up and pretend nothing happened. Tough it out on his own, and all. Rantaro’s got his own things. Wouldn’t want to ruin his day with trivialities.  _ “Uh, Momota? Are you there?”  _ The smile is gone now, replaced with a gentle urgency, and Kaito thinks,  _ shit, shit, shit, shit,  _ because he should probably say something.

“Hi,” Kaito blurts, before Rantaro can speak again. “Uh-- sorry.”

_ “You alright?”  _ Rantaro hums. There’s a gentle shuffling on his end of the line. Perhaps he’s running a hand through his hair. Kaito’s felt it before; it’s pretty soft. (What the fuck is he thinking?)  _ “You sound kind of, uhm, out of it.” _

“I’m fine,” Kaito dismisses instinctively. “Actually-- shit, I-- well, no I’m not, I-- are you in town, Amami?”

Slowly, Rantaro replies, sounding worried.  _ “Sure, I am… why? What’s the matter?” _

“Nothing,” FUCK. Fuck these automatic reponses, where are they even coming from? Kaito closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a lump forming in his throat and he swallows four times to keep it down. No crying, especially not on the phone with Rantaro fucking Amami, that would be ridiculous and also stupid. Kaito considers hanging up right now and lying here until the end of time. “I’m, uh, sick. And my grandparents aren’t home.” Kaito feels like someone else is speaking through him. It’s his own voice, to be sure, but he doesn’t recognise it, nor does he register that the words are coming out of  _ his  _ mouth. “I was wondering if you could--”

_ “Okay,”  _ Rantaro cuts him off. More shuffling from the other end. Louder. Kaito is hit with something deep in his stomach, regret perhaps, and opens his mouth to change his mind.  _ “Can you send me your address? Don’t think I’ve ever been by your house. Oh, but I can get it from Saihara or Akamatsu too, if you can’t send it. I’ll make something up,”  _ his smile sounds a bit wry. Kaito closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall, and tries to envision that smile in his head. He’s seen it before. It’s one of those smiles that Rantaro gives to diffuse a situation; and not necessarily because he means them.

“I can send it,” he says quietly.

_ “Hang tight.”  _ Rantaro replies. After Rantaro hangs up, Kaito dimly registers typing in his address into their texting room, hitting send with a stiff, blobby thumb, and tapping the power button.

Kaito drops his hand to his side, allows the phone to slip out from his fingers. Somehow he feels even worse now than he did when he was trying to get up to get the stupid water. He finds the energy somewhere in him to keep himself from crying, because if he started crying now he’d still be going when Rantaro comes over, and that’ll be the worst. Like, the actual worse. God, Kaito hates crying in front of people. It leaves him feeling all shaky and hot in his chest, and not in a good way. The kind of shaky and hot that makes him want to rip his fucking throat out, that kind of shaky. It goes further than embarrassment, it’s straight up humiliation.

  
The fact that Kaito can’t just, take care of his own goddamn self, he has to go through his life actually  _ relying  _ on other people, being like, a real undeniable presence that needs things and expects things… it just really fucking sucks. Kaito wants to drift through as some kind of deus ex machina. A fictional martyr figure. Someone everyone can look up to without actually knowing or caring about. If Shuichi and Maki didn’t give a shit about him, only cared about their relationship with him because of what they get out of it… that would be just fine by Kaito, actually. Because then they’d stop noticing when he’s upset. Stop asking what’s wrong. Stop trying to get him to open up when it’s the last damn thing he wants to do.

(He knows it’s selfish to turn them away when they’re just trying to help, but like,  _ shit.  _ It just makes him feel like the absolute worst.)

How long it’s been when the doorbell rings, Kaito doesn’t know. He tries to brace himself on the wall behind him, pull himself up, but his arms shake from the effort (stupid, he hates feeling weak like this) and he drops himself back down after a moment, feeling pathetic. Fantastic. Stellar. That’s it, he supposes. Rantaro’s just gonna stand out there wondering what happened and Kaito’s gonna sit here hating himself until either his grandparents return home and give him soft, sympathetic looks (that he  _ hates)  _ or he dissolves into nothing and gets blown away on the wind, forgotten.

Which’ll be worse? As much as Kaito doesn’t really want to be a real person with needs and weaknesses and shit, he can’t stand the idea of fading into obscurity. It’s a stifling, claustrophobic kind of feeling. But also the inevitable sort. Sucks to suck.

Downstairs, the door clicks and swings open. Huh. Maybe Rantaro knows how to pick locks. Maybe it’s an axe murderer down there. Kaito doesn’t have the energy to care. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, trying to forget the pounding in his head and just pass out, forget everything but most importantly how  _ shitty  _ he feels right now.

He hardly hears footsteps on the stairs, the muffled pad pad padding noises of socked feet. His bedroom door creaks open, and then there’s a crinkly thud beside him, a cool hand cupping his forehead. The touch is so startling and so, well, welcome, that Kaito cracks open his eyes, peeking upwards at Rantaro.

Right now he smells overwhelmingly cool, like, minty, but the underlying familiarity of his evergreen smell isn’t gone either. Kaito feels relaxed by it, unwittingly. Rantaro’s brows are furrowed in a familiar look of concern.

“It’s not like I’m any kind of expert, but,” Rantaro bites his lip, eyes half lidding as he muses, more to himself than to Kaito, it seems. “You’re  _ really  _ hot.”

“Huh.” Kaito finds himself indifferent to this information, strangely. “Thanks.”

Rantaro’s lip curls, strangely, an amused look present on his features (handsome features, Kaito thinks, very handsome-- Rantaro’s just, like, superbly good looking, in a way that can’t really be  _ emulated  _ by anyone else) for the briefest of moments before the concern settles back in again. His hand shifts over to Kaito’s neck for a moment, rubbing gently at the junction between his collar and his shoulder, and then he pulls away, and Kaito feels the loss immediately.

It seems as though he’s thinking. After a moment for contemplation, though, Rantaro reaches out and tucks an arm around Kaito’s midsection, hoisting him up with remarkable strength. Kaito tries to help but his hand kind of slips against the wall, so, eh. Such is life and all. Rantaro’s steady and even, pleasantly cool against Kaito’s overwhelming heat.

He’s guided back over to his bed. Sat down. Kaito watches Rantaro pull out a couple of water bottles, reusable ones, it seems (so Rantaro’s been listening to his rambles about single use plastics… Kaito feels something inside of him welling up but refuses to let it be his eyes, because, uh,  _ no)  _ with ice cubes clinking around inside. He offers one to Kaito, but it’s difficult to get an actual grip on it, so Rantaro ends up helping him hold it as he takes a drink.

It’s  _ kind  _ of infantalising and Kaito feels like absolute shit, like, he wants to drink water by himself, but he’s not in the position to complain. And Rantaro doesn’t give him any of those gross sympathetic or understanding looks when he’s done.

“Are you feeling awful enough to warrant a doctor’s trip?” Rantaro asks. Kaito straightens up, raises his eyebrows and quickly shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s-- I’m okay, some rest’ll probably… be okay. I just wanna, uh, kill the fever, y’know?” Kaito’s having a hard enough time stringing together sentences as is. The panic only makes things more difficult. Rantaro appears to pick up on this. He nods, and also, reaches out a hand to comb it through Kaito’s hair.

(Shit, no one ever does that, like, ever, and Kaito was fine with it but he really  _ underestimated  _ how nice that feels.)

“Uhm,” Kaito says, intelligently. Rantaro smooths his hair down and rises to his feet.

“I’ll make you some soup if you can keep down the water-- you haven’t thrown up or anything, have you?” Kaito shakes his head, watches Rantaro’s expression as he thinks. “Okay. That’s good. I hope you like chicken soup. It’s kind of what I do best.”

When he puts it that way, there’s literally no way that Kaito could say he  _ doesn’t  _ want to try it. Shit, Rantaro probably doesn’t even know how his words make Kaito  _ feel  _ half the time.

“You should lie down,” Rantaro says quietly. Kaito wonders if he’s spaced off. “And rest,” he adds. Kaito watches him for a moment but nods, shifting so that he can lie back down again. Rantaro pulls the blanket back over him, tucks it in in what is more tender a gesture than Kaito is expecting. He turns around, probably just to pick up his bag and stuff, but…

Kaito can’t help blurting, “You’ll stay, right? Amami?”

And despite the instant regret that Kaito is struck with after the words leave his mouth, Rantaro just turns back to meet his eyes. Smiles gently. “Of course. As long as you’ll have me.”

The warm but not unpleasant feeling lingers as Kaito slips off into unconsciousness. (And Rantaro’s still there when he wakes up.)

**Author's Note:**

> watch me create another 21 part series with these fucking dumbassesklajdskfj
> 
> no frfr i like this one more than the other one even though i'm like half dead rn akldjf why does one am literally slaughter me bro what's up with that
> 
> i like these two!!! mnn okay i don't know what else to say i'm just gonna leave this here
> 
> i hope y'all aren't tired of all the amami content yet bc frankly? it's all i have to offer
> 
> edit: hopped on phone to say that i hc that amami was at some rich boy function for his dad when kaito called and. immediately took off after
> 
> "sorry lads the bf is sick 😔 gotta do what ya gotta do yknow"
> 
> (im sorry im sleep deprived and ill leave now)


End file.
